A man lost through time
by sheffieldBaker
Summary: Sorry I am rubbish at summaries, basically Harry Potter is taken by two higher beings and is then sent to different universes and times to keep the balance between light and dark stable, eventually he winds up being born in Sparta (yes, that Sparta but he wont be wearing nappies and kicking people down holes) and he confronts demi gods, monsters and a certain goddess


I hold no ownership over the respective titles

Prologue:

I don't remember much of my first life, the flashes of green and death, screams, pain and torture. Then peace, I floated in the void for I don't know how long, years, centuries, millennia? Until one day I heard a voice, an offer to protect the interests of the creators across all that they ruled, killing all that threatened to destroy the tenuous balance that existed within all creations, light and dark, good and evil. I was to be the agent of Order and Chaos, the embodiment of balance, any that dared to disturb the balance was to be my prey, and I would hunt them to the ends of universe, time and space would not matter, nothing would stop me from catching my quarry.

Ever since I had become a Guardian of Chaos and Order, I had been swept through time and space, the future, different planets, different realities. It was my job to drop into a new-born and lead the life they were supposed to lead, I had been men, women, soldiers and doctors, I had lifetimes of experience, I had lived for so long I lost count after the first 10,000 years, and that was very long ago, lifetimes passed in the blink of the eye, I experienced love, hate, torment and joy, sometimes my lives were peaceful, others they were not, I had been born into war and peace. People have called me terrorist, freedom fighter, saviour and murderer, the list goes on for much longer. I had lost any qualms about killing long ago, I did what I had to and I did it for the greater good, I had once concentrated on the small picture, lamenting at the sight of those I could not save, torture, murder and other atrocities desensitised me to the awful events that happened, it did not matter anymore, they were merely pawns to be sacrificed, I was the one sent to kill the king.

I landed in this world 25 years ago, a strong healthy male, I did not cry nor scream, I was strong. My mother was a beautiful woman, both in looks and in character, strong yet gentle. Dark brown hair in delicate curls that framed her face, my father had died in battle shortly before I was born leaving her alone. I learnt to read and write from her, I was taught how a true man respects women, that us men were only there to defend the interests of the state and our families, the women were the ones left to deal with the chaos, they truly were the strongest gender. When I turned seven the older men came and took me, I was to partake within the Agoge, I would learn to serve the great city state of Lacedaemon to the best of my ability. I was cunning and quickly took to thieving to survive, I crushed my opponents, whether it was in sports or in Pankration, I pushed myself to be the best, I was here for a purpose, I never knew what, but I would fulfil it. Bodies and minds broke in the process, many died, but they were the ones who were weak. Only the strong deserve to live, to serve in the military, to become a true spartan on their 30th year. We learnt to train our bodies, but the body was only a weapon, a tool, we had to train our minds as well to use our bodies to their fullest potential, battlefield tactics, medicine, blacksmithing, we all learnt and fell upon these subjects with a voracious appetite. Scroll after scroll, scholar after scholar we learnt, we learnt to lead, to inspire and to outwit our enemies, especially those soft Athenians. They restricted their women from learning, according to them the woman should be subservient to the man. They tried to ridicule us for our strong women, but only Spartan women can give birth to men. The women would protect the home while we were away, ready to protect the state in case the Helots ever rose, they were always put down. But the few who respected the Helots, like my mother and a few others were respected by them, ours never rebelled, or tried to escape.

In my previous lives I had heard of the 12 tasks of Alcaeus, you would know him as Herakles, Theseus and the Minoan Minotaur, these men were far from perfect. Herakles was a womaniser and a treacherous bastard, he befriended Hippolyta only to kill her for her belt, when he claimed the golden apples of immortality, he bewitched one of its guardians only to leave her, alone and without family, without safety, her purpose finished. He truly was scum. Theseus was much the same, promising a girl he would marry her if she helped him, making her betray her family, her loved ones and then just leaving her at the mercy of Pan on some godforsaken island, and he tried to claim she left him no choice. None of these men knew of sacrifice, all they thought of was themselves, Herakles even tried to pretend Hera made him kill his family the arsehole just didn't want the responsibility. There was a reason he was banished from Sparta.

Eventually our 15th year came, and we were sent to the leaders, to decide who would join the Crypteia, only the best, the smartest the fittest would be selected. I was one of the lucky chosen. We were taken to an Arena and here they showed us the monsters, those that could see them were sent to train elsewhere, those that couldn't served in the military. We were known simply as Oi Fýlakes, the wardens, it was our task to counter all of Echidna's spawn, sending them back to the dark pit of Tartarus and bringing glory back to the state.

They handed us a makhaira and an Aspis and released the creatures, the Crocotta came at us from all directions, faster than anything we had ever seen, their demonic screams ripped through us, we began to panic. "Stand! Stand you bastards!" I bellowed, yanking my fellow soldiers from their panicked stupor.

"Are you men or Athenians?! Leave your shield and I will kill you myself!" They responded to that, determination filling their faces as they stood like true men.

"I will see you in Asphodel my friends! Today or the next!" and with that we charged, a guttural cry emanating from our throats as adrenaline fuelled our courage.

I swung my blade at the throat of the monster, simply glancing of the things hide. I was stunned, the elders had sent us to our deaths. Anger filled me, I would not die here, I was not meant to die having done nothing. My shield came down with all my fury powering the strike, hitting harder than the bolts of Zeus. The creature yelped, throwing itself back from the pain it felt. I would not give it the quarter it wanted. I pressed, using my shield as my main weapon, my makhaira discarded and forgotten. I struck at the pitiful creature, this pissant that dared to try to attack me, ME! I cloaked myself in the rage that I felt, a cool, lethargic rage, simmering in the back of my skull. It empowered me, giving me a strength I had never felt before. I fell into the pleasure of killing, of hurting, of DESTROYING my enemies. I did not stop, beating the monster, breaking its bones, its spirit. Bones cracked as I brought the aspis down repeatedly upon its body, blood leaked from gashes caused by the sharp edge of the shield, I did not stop even as it fell still, the life leaving its body. It began to dissolve, golden dust taking it place. I looked around, begging for my next enemy, my next conquest. I did not blink at the sight of my dead companions, The sight not quite registering within my mind. Some still survived, struggling to take down their creatures. I charged forward once more, my anger empowering my movements, I became faster, I became stronger, I became better! My arms seized one of Crocotta lifting it from the ground holding it in the air as I chocked the life out of it. Muscles and bones collapsed, pulverised by the strength with which I attacked. I didn't stop till it dissolved like its earlier counterpart. On and on I went, destroying creature after creature, none were spared. Only stopping when I heard the command. "Spartans! Cease your fighting, that is an order!" The elder was stood up, every bit regal in his polished armour.

I stood with my companions, our exhausted bodies barely standing after our battle, the adrenaline having left our bodies long ago. "Today you join the ranks of the greatest heroes of our history, you stood before a creature that far surpassed any mortal man and triumphed over it. You used your wits, your strength and your abilities to win, like a true spartan! No longer do you participate in the Agoge, you stand apart from your fellow men, and have been awarded with the highest honour a man can achieve, you are Spartans now!" We stood higher, our fatigue forgotten in the wake of this excitement.

"You will see battle against the strongest enemies within our society, you are the strongest and as such you should face a challenge worthy of you. You will not be a part of the military, you are the elite of the Crypteia, the Oi Fýlakes. You will defend our homeland from creatures that challenge even the Gods! Now go! Go and take your rightful place!"

We held our heads high, we were the elite, however we could not forget our fallen comrades. I turned with my brothers, heading to the corpses of our fallen friends. We treated them with the greatest respect, we would see them again in the fields of Asphodel. Body, shield and sword, all were collected, all were precious. A man who laid down his life to defend what he believed in, to protect his fellow Spartans, these were what we hoped to be. We did not wish for death, but we would welcome it with open arms if our time had come. We simply wished to live our life to its fullest, to live with honour and with purpose, these men had done that.

That night we feasted, but we held no revelry that one would expect from such a momentous occasion. The Athenians liked to think us savages that revelled in carnage, and with every victory we fell into some dark pit of debauchery, alcohol and pleasures of the flesh. They were far from the truth. Too us our celebration was to the dead, our fallen and our enemies, for no life, no matter what had a purpose. We honoured the men that fought and died, to defend our homeland and his brothers, we honoured the cattle that gave us food, and we honoured our enemies, for while they tried to kill us, they gave us a challenge and filled their purpose, and we had taken their life. So now we raised a cup in their honour and wished them a good death.

**10 years Later**

I was so tired, fatigue sat within my very soul as a stared unblinking at the battlefield that lay before me. Men cried out in pain as their limbs lay about them, stomachs were split open from the razor-sharp claws of the chimaera, so much loss, for just one fucking creature. It had come a few months ago, ripping through a small village outside Athens, burning down the huts with its hellish fire and it devoured all in its way, men, women and children, it did not matter to the creature. It just left destruction in its wake. It travelled through the various states, heading south until it reached its present location, Sparta. When we heard news of it attacking one of the Helot villages, we made haste to intercept it, barely stopping to eat, drink or sleep. All of us were able to see them for their true forms, some of us were even Demigods, it did not matter to us, we were just given the weapons and told to kill the monsters that threatened our cities and people.

I now stood alone, 100 men had been slayed by the surprise attack of additional monsters from behind, breaking our phalanx. These monsters showed a cunning never before seen in them, whilst we pushed against the Chimaera, holding it back with our Dory, they surprised our right flank crashing into our formation. Chaos reigned from there, men were pulled to the ground and ripped apart, throats, limbs were rent apart by the infernal creatures. We eventually overpowered the additional creatures but at a great loss, nearly the entire Lochos had been slaughtered. The paltry 7 men left alive under my command could not defeat this Chimaera and neither could I. We couldn't retreat either, the beast would only cut us down as we did. "Form up!" I bellowed, bringing the men to me.

"This is insanity we can't defeat this creature! We must run Lochagos!" begged Arkadios, my second in command.

"No, we stand! We will die, but we cannot run, we can only slow this creature down and hope that the next Lochos can stop it when its injured! We will drag this creature down to the underworld with us, whether it is today or tomorrow! Now Charge! We began to sprint, our only choice in this battle. We knew we would die, but it is an honour to die for Sparta. Spears gouged into flesh and blades slashed, mere bites f an insect to the creature. The last of my men began to fall, burned alive, mauled or poisoned by the snake. I stood alone, my spear had log since broken, shattering when the jaws of the chimaera came down upon it. I jabbed into the creatures hide with my xiphos, barely drawing blood. This continued on for a while, constantly slashing and cutting at the monster with my short xiphos. That was until I was blindsided by the snake head.

Venomous fangs sunk into my flesh through my cuirass, the steady stream of poison burning like fire as it entered my body. I screamed in pain, something familiar about this entered my mind but it was quickly cast away. I raised my xiphos high and brought it down with all my strength, plunging the blade into the snake's neck, it bit deep. The creature screamed and jerked away pulling the blade from my grip and breaking one of its fangs within my body. I fell to the floor as the monstrosity recoiled, flailing around in the air, harsh screams and hisses echoed around. However I could not enjoy the sight of this fucking creature in pain as my vision began to darken, but as the last of the darkness encroached, I swore I saw silver arrows puncturing the creature causing it to roar and bleat in pain, and then the most beautiful sight I ever saw, lithe body, auburn hair, and… and… an…

End of prologue.

Please tell me what you think and how it could be improved, those who just want to insult me or my writing, piss off, I don't really give a shit what you think, ta ta.


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